MD

“Here lies Morris, a good man and friend. He enjoyed the finer points of civilized life but never shied away from a hearty adventure or hard work. He died a free man, which is more than most people can say, if we are going to be honest about it. Most people are chained to their own fear and stupidity and haven't the sense to level a cold eye at just what is wrong with their lives. Most people will continue on, dissatisfied but never attempting to understand why, or how they might change things for the better, and they die with nothing in their hearts but dirt and old, thin blood - weak blood, diluted - and their memories aren't worth a goddamned thing, you will see what I mean.”
― Patrick deWitt, The Sisters Brothers

“Eberhard died. I do not wish to articulate the details, for a form of spiritual or emotional rift in time and space was created on that day, and no matter how many years pass, I can always stretch back and know that pain as though the hole in me were being torn anew, or the sorrow may reach through with its icy finger and fell me when I’m least prepared. It is a part of me. A shadow that accompanies my shadow. There is no healing.”
― Nathaniel Ian Miller, The Memoirs of Stockholm Sven

“But in my experience it’s rarely the parting that is memorable, unless it’s a death. They are always hurried, awkward affairs. Never enough time to say what you wish you had said. You must trust that your feelings are known, and that you will be remembered as you were.”
― Nathaniel Ian Miller, The Memoirs of Stockholm Sven

“If you put nothing down,” she replied, “the people you love will only remember the skeleton of your experience. Your mind dies with you. If you must write for someone, write for Skuld. Write for me.”
― Nathaniel Ian Miller, The Memoirs of Stockholm Sven